


Hours Between

by ScribeOfRhapsody



Series: Hours of an Alternate Life [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Child Neglect, Gen, HighSpecs, Physical Disability, Post-Crisis, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-03-31 23:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13985553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeOfRhapsody/pseuds/ScribeOfRhapsody
Summary: Ignis is going mad. Noct is worried. Gladio is frustrated. Prompto is sleepy. Nyx is really bored. Now that the crisis is over, life goes on. Just... not like it was before.





	1. Of Focus and Learning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, friends! Welcome to the next installment in the Hours universe! This one includes nine chapters that are all pretty much self-contained events set from right after the last few stories to a few months later. The largest sequel composed of WHO FREAKING KNOWS HOW MANY CHAPTERS will be posted shortly after this one’s completion. Seeing as the chapters of that larger sequel are longer, I only have a few of them done and will thus be updating once a week on this story so I have time to stock up more chapters on the next one before we begin.

While finding Gladio in the training rooms was not unusual, finding him there at 4:30 in the morning was less common. Cor had been catching glimpses of him doing smaller tasks for the King all day, but, even with everything that still needed doing, almost everyone in the Citadel had gone home or was asleep by now. Clarus had bidden Cor goodnight hours ago.

 

Not that Cor was curious what Gladio was doing. No, that was fairly obvious given his lack of coordination and the harshness of his strikes as he whaled on a punching bag. He wasn’t training – he was raging.

 

Cor shrugged his coat off, hanging it neatly over a nearby weapon’s rack as he approached the young Shield. “Trouble sleeping?”

 

Gladio barely spared him a glance, landing several more punches. “Didn’t really try.”

 

There were about half a dozen things wrong with Gladio’s at the moment, but clearly form wasn’t at the forefront of his mind.

 

“There’s only so much you can learn from beating a stationary target that doesn’t fight back.”

 

Gladio landed a last punch, his chest heaving with effort as he turned to face Cor. “You making an offer?”

 

“If you would like.” Not that the boy had any chance against him, especially in his current mindset.

 

They moved to the center of the room, where Gladio instantly barreled into action. It was honestly pathetic how many openings Cor could have taken advantage of, but he stayed on the defensive, letting Gladio burn himself out.

 

One wild hit after another, and all Cor did was block. Gladio radiated frustration, pushing on and punching harder and harder until exhaustion slowed his every strike. It was then Cor turned the tables, parrying one of his blows and rushing him, taking him down to the ground and pinning him there.

 

“Are you done?” Cor asked calmly.

 

Gladio didn’t give much effort into struggling, his exhaustion clearly winning over his stubbornness. Either that, or he just knew it was useless.

 

“Yeah…” He huffed out a few more breaths into the floor. “Yeah… I’m done…”

 

Cor released him, standing and offering his hand down. “I take it there’s something on your mind?”

 

Gladio rolled over, accepting the hand and pulling himself to his feet. “Yeah, you could say that.”

 

“Hmph. This definitely hasn’t ben the easiest few days. Your father had the luxury of adjusting to his duties a bit more gradually.”

 

Gladio snorted. “Adjusting to my duties? I sat on my ass most of the time. Hell, Prompto did more to protect Noct than I did.”

 

Cor nodded. “Your frustration is understandable, but it was a particular situation. Your skills wouldn’t have helped, but you directed us to someone whose would.”

 

Gladio scoffed, looking away and eying the punching bag again. “I’m Noct’s Shield – it’s my duty to protect him, not draft in others to do it for me. Even when he was right in front of me, I let him get taken again.”

 

Gladio’s words spoke of guilt, but his tone was of pure frustration and determination. The only reason he dwelled on his past actions was to learn – a trait he’d no doubt inherited from his father.

 

“So learn,” Cor said flatly. “Take what you believe your mistakes to be and learn from them, as every other Shield has before. And while you’re at it, find the focus you’re sorely lacking at the moment.”

 

Gladio seemed to contemplate his words before squaring his shoulders. “Yes, sir.”

 

A buzz came from across the room, where Gladio’s jacket was sitting on a chair.

 

Cor arched an eyebrow, wondering just how many people were awake at this hour.

 

Gladio’s eyes flickered over to the jacket. “I’d better get that – it’s Noct.”

 

Of course. Noctis, Ignis, and Prompto were likely all battling fitful nights of sleep currently.

 

Cor headed for the door as Gladio went for his phone.

 

“Get some sleep, Gladio. And make sure your ward does the same.”


	2. Of Boredom and Coffee

 

Ignis sighed, dropping the puzzle piece in his hand back to the table and picking up his can of Ebony. He felt exhausted and restless at the same time. He couldn’t focus on such a trivial matter as five hundred-piece puzzle that likely had more than ten percent of its pieces missing. What was the point if he couldn’t complete it? He needed to do something productive, but he’d already put dinner in the oven a half hour ago, and he was still forbidden from work by the King himself. Ignis hadn’t even managed to convince Gladio to sneak him any paperwork, and thus he was stuck in Noct’s apartment with nothing to do while the Prince was at school.

 

It really didn’t seem entirely fair to him that Noct got to return to school while he was forced to “rest,” but those were the decrees. Absently, Ignis wondered if King Regis secretly wanted to drive him mad, or if he just honestly had no idea that his son’s living conditions were so lacking in wholesome entertainment.

 

Ignis could have fixed dessert, yet he lacked the ingredients. He could have read a book, yet Noct didn’t seem to have any that looked remotely interesting or weren’t comics. He couldn’t even justify cleaning anything to himself because he’d already cleaned everything since he’d gotten here. Twice.

 

Ignis’ gaze slid over to the TV. The King had also forbidden him watching the news, and he had no desire to watch any of the soap operas that were on at this hour, but the PlayStation–

 

Ignis shook his head. What was he _thinking?_ How desperate had he become?

 

He stood from his chair, going to check the kitchen for the third time for ingredients he already knew wouldn’t be there.

 

He grabbed his new phone on the way there. While it had none of the notes of his destroyed phone, it at least held the numbers he needed. He shot another quick text to Gladio, though his friend still had yet to answer any of the three he’d sent prior.

 

He’d just finished searching the cabinets again when the phone rang. Ignis nearly dumped his Ebony over as he sprang for it.

 

“Gladio?”

 

“ _You wanna tell me why the hell you need a ten thousand-piece puzzle, eggs, butter, a novel that, quote, ‘must be at least higher quality than that of the ninety-nine cent checkout tabloids,’ and an empty shoebox?_ ”

 

“A week, Gladio. I am to be here for another entire week, not counting the rest of today.” Ignis gritted his teeth. “I need _something_ to keep me occupied.”

 

“ _A shoebox?_ ”

 

“Noct’s games could use a proper place to hold them rather than them piling around the TV.”

 

Gladio sighed. “ _I’ll get someone to bring you something. Better yet, if you’re gonna still be there for a week, why don’t you write me up a full grocery list?_ ”

 

“Certainly,” Ignis said instantly. Excellent. Perhaps he could make dessert after all.

* * *

 

 

It was nearly three hours later when the knock on the door came. Ignis answered it quickly, hoping whoever it was had gotten proper produce and not haphazardly grabbed a lot of beat-up vegetables and fruit– 

 

Ignis stopped, blinking as the deliverer came into view. “Marshal.”

 

Cor nodded at him. “Ignis. Good to see you back on your feet.”

 

Ignis frowned in confusion as he spotted the brown paper bags in Cor’s arms. “…You’re my grocer?”

 

Cor glanced at the bags, almost as though just remembering they were there. “No. Someone else did the shopping. I just brought it over.”

 

Was he missing something here? “Isn’t making deliveries a little below your paygrade, Marshal?” Unless one sniper shot gone wrong was enough to–

 

Ah. No wonder. Evidently – as stoic as he might seem – the Marshal was not above feeling guilt, even for things that weren’t truly his fault.

 

Cor still hadn’t said anything, so Ignis stood aside, gesturing for him to enter the apartment. “Please, do come inside.”

 

Cor did so, looking around. “I take it the Prince’s apartment isn’t usually this clean. Gladio _did_ mention that you were bored out of your mind.”

 

“There is… only so much to keep me occupied around here without any work,” Ignis admitted.

 

Cor smirked faintly, setting the bags on the kitchen counter. “Forget it, kid. You’re under royal order. That’s above even my power to change.”

 

Ignis groaned inwardly. It had been worth a shot.

 

Cor frowned at the trash can in the kitchen, plucking an Ebony can out of the top of it. “How many of these have you had today?”

Blast. He hadn’t thought to hide the evidence better. He had no choice but to answer while he was pinned under the unwavering gaze of the Immortal.

 

Ignis cleared his throat. “Do the ones before 5 a.m. count as today?”

 

Cor dropped the can back into the trash, giving Ignis a strong glare. “I assume that means you haven’t been sleeping much?”

 

Ignis wanted to deny that. He wanted to assure Cor that he was fine. But… this was his commanding officer, asking him a question after a crisis. He had to be truthful. “…No. I’m afraid I have been having rather unrestful nights.”

 

The glare turned flat. “And your solution to this was to drink more caffeine? You’re clever, Ignis – use your head.”

 

Ignis looked down, feeling his cheeks heat as he muttered lowly, “Yes, sir.”

 

Cor sighed, grabbing a container of garlic from the grocery bag and putting it in the spare spice cabinet. “Look, Ignis, getting shot is nothing to shrug off, even with the King’s magic. You need this recovery time, and you need to use it well.”

 

Ignis resisted a snort. The Marshal still thought getting shot was the greatest source of his trauma. Of course it had hurt – _bloody hell_ , had it hurt – but he’d fallen unconscious rather quickly. Cor had no idea about the other trauma. How could he? Ignis had been forbidden from writing a report as of yet. Not that Ignis was particularly eager to put those details into a report when the time came.

 

Whatever the case, he couldn’t allow Cor to be carrying around this pointless guilt.

 

“Marshal… I know it was you who fired the shot.”

 

Cor paused, his hand still in the cabinet.

 

Ignis continued. “The fault was my own, not yours. You needn’t do…” Ignis gestured to the groceries. “ _This_. I am alive. I will recover. Do not burden yourself with my status.”

 

Cor scoffed, tossing a dry smirk over his shoulder before turning to face him. “Not going to happen.” He gave the bags a look. “Now, are you going to help me with this, or do I have to do it all?”

 

Ignis chuckled, moving over to help.

 

They’d almost finished when Cor spoke up again. “No more coffee for you today.” He shoved a book into Ignis’ chest. “Read this. Take a nap. Those are orders. I’ll see about getting you something to help you sleep.”

 

Interesting. Ignis had always known that people dealt with things in different ways. Perhaps this was just Cor’s way of trying to move on.

 

Very well, then.

 

“…Thank you, Marshal.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know he cares.


	3. Of Stubbornness and Recovery

The corner of Regis’ lips turned upwards slightly as he read the report on his desk. He probably shouldn’t have been smiling at such a topic, but, despite its seriousness, he couldn’t help himself. Even though the therapist that had been assigned for Ignis to talk to was keeping to his sworn confidentiality, it didn’t appear as though he would have had anything to tell Regis anyway.

 

Ignis, it appeared, was an incredibly stubborn patient. Regis was not surprised. Not in the slightest. Though Ignis had yet to submit his report – under Regis’ orders to take time off work – Regis knew enough about the boy’s time in Imperial hands to know that he’d given his captors hell. Not to mention he’d uncovered two traitors within the Glaive as well.

 

Still. Regis was concerned for Ignis. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he’d been through a trauma. Bottling up his emotions would only harm him in the long run.

 

There was a knock on the door to his study.

 

Clarus looked up sharply from the book he was reading in a nearby chair. He’d been understandably suspicious as of late.

 

“ _Your Majesty, Ignis Scientia is here to speak with you,_ ” the guard called through the thick door.

 

“Let him in,” Regis called back.

 

Clarus visibly relaxed.

 

Ignis had started practicing keeping a straight face extremely young, and, other than Cor, Regis had never seen someone his age so good at it. However, Ignis hadn’t _perfected_ the art. Having watched the boy grow up, Regis was able to pick up the finer clues of his facial ticks.

 

As Ignis waked into the room, he was making a very valiant effort not to look utterly exasperated, but the exasperation was there all the same. Regis almost chuckled. Were he not the King, he suspected Ignis would have some very strong words for him.

 

Ignis bowed respectfully. “Majesty.”

 

“Ignis. Do have a seat. Relax.”

 

Ignis did as he was told, but the corner of his eye gave a subtle twitch that spoke of his irritation.

 

This time Regis _did_ chuckle. “I would have you speak freely with me, Ignis.”

 

Ignis only hesitated a moment. “I’d like to return to work, Majesty.”

 

“Not a chance,” Regis replied instantly.

 

Ignis cut off the sigh that almost let his mouth.

 

Regis smiled teasingly at him. “Ignis, it will not kill you to take the remainder of the week off. Physically and mentally, every man or woman needs time to adjust after a trauma to return to their true selves.”

 

Ignis did not look amused. “With respect, Majesty, I would feel more like myself were I allowed to do at least some of my usual duties.”

 

Regis arched an eyebrow at him. “Do you think I know so little about you? Yes, you might _appear_ to be functioning better were you allowed to preform your duties, but you would only be smothering your troubles, not dealing with them.”

 

“I’m managing my troubles–”

 

Regis gave him a look that silenced him instantly. “Truly? Is drowning yourself in caffeine because you cannot sleep at night and refusing to speak to someone about the entire event what you classify as _managing?_ ” 

 

“He’s been talking to me.”

 

Regis’ gaze flickered up and Ignis twisted around in his seat as Noctis spoke from the doorway, his schoolbag hanging from his shoulder. Ah, yes… the only person the guards wouldn’t warn their King about. Plus, Regis had been expecting him.

 

Regis frowned. “Shouldn’t you still be in school?”

 

Noctis stared blankly at him. “…You told me to get here.”

 

“ _After_ your classes, yes.”

 

“Oh…”

 

“Did you walk out of class to get here?” Ignis asked.

 

“No. I just… didn’t go to the later ones.” Noctis shrugged, looking at his shoes. “Barely matters… Not like I can hear the teachers anyway.”

 

Ignis’ lips pursed in displeasure. “ _He_ is the one who should be at home recovering – the hearing in his left ear has yet to return to the level it will.”

 

“Hey!” Noctis protested. “You need recovery time way more than I do with all that blood loss.”

 

“You can’t get a transfusion for your hearing.”

 

Regis was thankful for the magic healing the Crystal had granted them, but, right now, it just wasn’t enough. The doctors had said Noctis’ hearing would do better if it was healed naturally at this point.

 

“I had thought,” Regis raised his voice above their slight bickering, “that Noctis would want to spend time with Mr. Argentum. That is why I sent him back to school so early.” Astrals knew Noct needed all the friends he could get at the moment. Ignis was a steady and very positive influence, but given how much he was dealing with on his own, Regis had thought it would do his son well to be around his other friend’s cheery disposition. Noct was at ease around him, and the teachers knew not to expect too much from him currently. Ignis, however, if left to his regular duties, would utterly drown himself in work until he passed out from exhaustion or stopped his own heart with caffeine. Cor’s reported findings from the other day confirmed that even further.

 

Noctis nodded. “Yeah… that’s been nice.”

 

Regis studied his son. While a certain amount of dazed exhaustion was to be expected after everything that had happened, Noctis looked worse than the last time Regis had seen him. “I am aware that Ignis has been having difficulty sleeping – have you as well, Noctis?”

 

Noctis squinted at him for a few moments, and Regis felt a deep pang as he realized he hadn’t spoken loud enough and Noctis was trying to figure out what he’d said.

 

Noctis shrugged finally. “I mean… yeah, kind of.”

 

Regis narrowed his eyes. “Son, answer me this honestly – do you need more time off school?” He’d definitely spoken loud enough that time, but Noctis still hesitated.

 

“…Yeah. That would be nice.”

 

In a split second, Ignis glared death at Noctis, and Noctis sent a challenging look back at him before both of their expressions went blank.

 

Regis was not stupid, and neither was he blind. Noctis was only hoping to stay home from school in order to be at his apartment for Ignis. Very well, then. If that was what helped them both, so be it. He had hoped that Ignis’ temporary move into Noctis’ apparent would benefit them both.

 

“You have the rest of the week off, alongside Ignis.”

 

“Thanks, Dad,” Noctis muttered as Ignis looked further exasperated.

 

Noctis all but dragged Ignis out of the room when they were dismissed.

 

Regis shook his head. “Stubborn boys…”

 

Clarus chuckled, returning to his book. “Were we so different?”

 

Regis smiled. “No… Not so different at all.” But they hadn’t undergone anything so difficult at such a young age.


	4. Of Panic and Realizations

 

Looking back, going out that night was a really bad decision. The kind of decision that Ignis normally would have chastised Noctis a lot more for. But nothing had been normal lately.

 

Ignis was still occupying Noctis’ spare room, and both of them had been camped there for a while. Before all this, if someone told him he was going to spend a couple weeks with Ignis living in his apartment, he probably would have run screaming. Now, he felt like crap for ever having felt that way. Having Ignis around lately had been crucial to both their sanities. And, when they weren’t dealing with each other’s current emotional trauma, Ignis was actually really nice to have around.

 

Noctis was right. He’d always known there was a fun side to his friend. But… fun wasn’t why Ignis didn’t object to Noct going out. Fun wasn’t even Noct’s goal. Well, at least… not for himself.

 

While Noctis and Ignis being holed up in Noctis’ apartment had been a good thing for them, it was not a good thing for someone else: Prompto.

 

At first, Noctis thought the lack of contact was because of Prompto not having a phone – oops – but then he’d been given a new one. Still quiet. Then he was quiet in school. And then he was quiet when Noctis’ dad pulled him out of school again. Short – if any – texts, no emojis, and no jokes.

 

Noctis had flat out had enough of it. Clearly Prompto was having problems too – something that was without a doubt due to almost being blown up and having to shoot someone. And, well, Noctis wasn’t about to sit by and let him keep struggling alone, that was for sure. Prompto needed a distraction.

 

And so Noctis thought of one.

 

“I wanna see if Prompto will go with me to an arcade tonight,” Noctis said at lunch.

 

Ignis sent him an arched eyebrow over a bite of spaghetti.

 

Noctis held up a hand. “I know – it’s too soon, there’s security crap still going on, blah blah blah. I wouldn’t even think about it normally, but he’s really weirding me out with how he’s acting, and being cooped up here or in the Citadel is just gonna make it worse.”

 

Ignis sighed, rubbing his head. “You’ll need an escort. I’ll see what I can arrange.”  

 

It was the least amount of protests Ignis had ever had to Noctis going out.

 

Gladio, on the other hand… Well, he’d showed up on Noctis’ doorstep about an hour later with a ravine-deep scowl on his face.

 

It probably didn’t help the Shield’s mood when Noctis’ first words to him were, “Whatever is it, not now. Come back in, like, fifteen minutes.”

 

If possible the scowl deepened. “You got something really important going on in here?”

 

“Yes!” He had not gleefully been enjoying Ignis’ growing attachment to a particular character in _Death Note_ for the last twenty-four episodes to miss his reaction now. “Don’t take this from me!”

 

“Take what?”

 

Noctis grinned, pausing to sneeze before he answered. “Me getting to watch Ignis’ heart shatter into a million pieces.”

 

Gladio’s face morphed into confusion. “What?”

 

“Look, if you’re not gonna go away, come in and enjoy the show with me.” Noctis cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the tiny itch there.

 

Gladio rolled his eyes and entered the apartment. “Fine.”

 

Noctis scrambled back into the living room, standing behind the couch. It was almost time.

 

“Good day, Gladio,” Ignis tossed over his shoulder, eyes glued to the TV.

 

“…What the hell are you guys watching?”

 

“Shh,” Ignis chided.

 

Gladio’s jaw almost hit the floor, and he leaned over to whisper to Noctis. “What have you been _doing_ to him?”

 

“Just shut up for a few minutes, okay? This is a really crucial episode, and it’s almost over,” Noctis hissed back, then smothered a cough. Gah. Stupid allergies. Probably all the dusting Ignis had been doing.

 

Noctis watched in delight as the scene he’d been waiting for arrived. Watched in delight as Ignis sat up and leaned closer to the TV. Watched in delight as the shock and then terror that encompassed his expression. This wasn’t like the time Noctis had sabotaged Ignis’ game and Ignis had turned on him with the rage of a thousand behemoths. No, Ignis was quiet this time, and Noctis wondered exactly how long his friend could go without blinking.

 

Apparently until the credits were rolling. That was when he slowly turned to Noctis.

 

“No. I do not accept this.”

 

Noctis laughed. “Yeaah, afraid you’re gonna have to.”

 

“No!” Ignis’ voice rose. “This cannot happen!”

 

“It kinda just did.”

 

Ignis seemed at a loss for words, looking more dismayed by the second.

 

“…I take it he was attached to that character?” Gladio asked.

 

Noctis nodded enthusiastically. “I believe by, like, episode ten he was ‘possibly his favorite fictional character of all time.’ Granted, you know, I just started getting him into the good fictional stuff, like, last week, but still.”

 

Ignis sat back on the couch, wheels obviously turning in his head. “There must be a way around this. The villain can’t actually _win._ ”

 

“Okay, that feeling I can relate to,” Gladio said. “Happened in a book I was reading once. I was pissed.”

 

“Oh, calm down, Iggy! We got plenty of episodes to go!” Noctis sneezed again.

 

Ignis sent him a flat look. “None of the remaining characters are even remotely smart enough to figure out the truth.”

 

“Just… you’re just gonna have to watch the next episode.”

 

Ignis tossed the remote at him. “Well, put it on, then!”

 

Gladio threw his arms in the air. “What the hell kind of universe did I wake up in this morning?”

 

Ignis blinked, as though just remembering Gladio was there. “Oh… Did you need something, Gladio?”

 

The scowl returned to Gladio’s face. “Yeah, I need to do my job. You’re fine with letting Noct go out with Prompto later? This soon after everything that just happened?”

 

Noctis could have sworn he could see Ignis’ mind change gears, clicking back over to his usual self in an instant.

 

“So long as he’s under guard, I do believe letting the two of them partake in more normal activities would be beneficial.”

 

Gladio sighed. “What kind of guard?”

* * *

 

 

It took a while, but Ignis somehow managed to arrange everything. Noct and Prompto wouldn’t even have a guard they could see if the guard was doing his job right. No one lurking awkwardly over their shoulders and freaking Prompto out.

 

And Prompto wasn’t freaking out. While he’d been that oddly quiet version of himself when they’d first met up, he was now acting way more relaxed since their movie had ended, and they were chatting about the corny dialogue with a familiar ease. It was really nice.

 

“So… arcade?”

 

Prompto’s grin froze. “Uhh, it’s not, like, open again yet, is it?”

 

Noctis rolled his eyes, clearing his throat in an attempt to get rid of the itch in it. “A different arcade. Remember that dumpy one we used to go to a couple years ago?”

 

“Oh, yeah! Um, sure! Let’s go!”

 

They made it about a half of the way there when Noctis realized they were being followed. Well… followed by someone other than the Glaive that he already knew was supposed to be there.

 

Oh, Astrals… No. Not again. Where was the Glaive?

 

“Prompto,” Noctis whispered, not even loud enough for himself to hear, but Prompto looked at him curiously. “Keep walking. At natural. Someone’s following us.”

 

For the guy with the worst poker face in the world, Prompto looked surprisingly casual as he accepted the information. Then he took a sip of his soda. “Um, yeah? He’s been lurking since we left your apartment.”

 

Noctis blinked. Seriously? His damn hearing… And why was Prompto so unconcerned?

 

“Dude.” Prompto looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Chill.” Prompto spun around, walking backwards as he called, “Yo! You gonna hang back there all night? You _can_ come hang out with us, you know.”

 

Noctis nearly slapped his own forehead as the figure jogged out of the shadows. Again, _seriously?_ It had taken him the time getting to the theater from his apartment, the entire movie, and part of the walk to realize _Gladio_ was tailing them?

 

The Shield waved as he reached them. “Hey. Didn’t want to intrude, just watching your backs.”

 

Prompto shrugged, and this whole thing would have seemed so much more normal if it wasn’t for the tight set of Gladio’s shoulders.

 

“I thought Pelna was around here watching our backs?” Prompto sipped his drink.

 

Gladio and Noctis both gave Prompto curious glances.

 

“You’re on first name basis with Pelna?” Noctis asked.

 

“ _You_ are?” Prompt shot back.

 

Noctis smothered a cough. “Uh, yeah… My dad kind of made me write an apology card to him.”

 

Gladio snorted.

Prompto raised an eyebrow. “Whhhhyy?”

 

Oh, this was no good. They were supposed to be having fun and _not_ thinking about all the crap that had happened. “Just… reasons. Come on, let’s keep going to the arcade.”

 

And so they did. It was still fun, if a bit more awkward. Gladio was definitely on high alert. Not that he didn’t have reason to be, but seriously… he needed to chill.

 

Noctis formed a plan on the way and headed directly for one game when they pushed through the door of the arcade. He scowled when the game he wanted was taken, but he happily killed time by playing with Prompto on another while he waited. Not that Prompto knew he was just killing time, which was also good. Prompto did seem to be perkier than he had been, getting lost in their fun. Perfect.

 

The game Noctis wanted was finally free.

 

Right. Time to get Gladio to relax.

 

“Okay, I gotta pee. Hey, Prompto, why don’t you show Gladio how to play?” Noctis gestured to the game.

 

“What?” Gladio spun around, having been watching the door.

 

“Ooh, yeah! You’re right! He’d totally dig that one!”

 

“Noct, I–”

 

Noctis gave him a look. “Gladio. Pelna is doing his job. I’m not going far. Chill. Play the game.”

 

Surprisingly, Gladio agreed, and Noctis grinned again as he headed to the bathroom. He typed out a brief update to Ignis on his phone before grabbing a drink at the fountain. Gah. His throat was _still_ bugging him.

 

By the time he came back to the gaming area, Prompto and Gladio were absorbed in their game. Noctis quietly took a seat in one of the chairs close to the snack area, yawning and dropping his head to rest on his arm on the table. He didn’t know when he’d gotten so tired again, but there was no reason he couldn’t snooze now.

 

Things had worked out great tonight.

* * *

 

 

Had someone asked Noctis to point out the exact moment things had gone to hell, it wouldn’t have been hard.

 

The second he was woken up by the touch on his shoulder, Noctis knew something was wrong. His head was pounding, and his throat felt way too tight. He frowned, looking up at Gladio to tell him to buzz off when he realized… Gladio’s lips were moving. Gladio’s lips were moving, and Noctis couldn’t hear _anything_.

 

Noctis’ breathing hitched, his heart rate spiking as his stomach twisted.

 

Nothing. Not one word.

 

No.

 

This couldn’t be right. The doctors had said his hearing would get better. This wasn’t better.

 

Vaguely, Noctis realized that he was breathing way too fast, but he couldn’t help it. Not even when Gladio knelt down in front of him and gripped his shoulders, face twisted in concern.

 

“I can’t… I can’t… _I can’t hear!_ ” Noctis wheezed out past his frantic breaths. He couldn’t even tell if it had sounded understandable.

 

Oh, Astrals, this was it. He’d lost it all now. Before had just been a sample of the horror. His hearing was gone. He was never going to be able to listen to music again, or talk on the phone. His father, Luna, the guys… he would never hear their voices again. After a time, he wouldn’t even remember what they’d sounded like.

 

Gladio’s lip movements had slowed down, but Noctis still couldn’t figure out any of his words.

 

And then Gladio hauled him up, carrying him out the door. Pelna was there instantly, and he and Prompto exchanged words before Pelna touched his ear, obviously reporting in. Prompto pulled out his new phone too, making a call on it.

 

Noctis scrunched his eyes shut, trying to calm down.

 

It didn’t work.

 

* * *

 

 

Prompto sat miserably in the corner of the hospital room beside Gladio. Thanks to the King, they were allowed to sit in Noct’s room, but Prompto was torn between wanting to stay at Noct’s side and his urge to flee and hide from the King and Gladio’s dad’s commanding and pissed off presences. Prompto was really pitying the doctor the King was speaking to. Poor dude. He hadn’t even had a chance to run any tests yet.

 

And Noct… oh crap… Noct looked like he was about to cry any second as he clenched the hospital blanket in his fists and stared uncomprehendingly at his dad. He looked awful. Then he sneezed, which made him look even more pitiful.

 

Prompto bit his lip. What had changed since earlier? He’d been fine.

 

“ _Sir… Sir! Hey! I can’t let you go in there!_ ”

 

“ _Well, you are bloody welcome to try and stop me._ ”

 

The King and the doctor stopped talking instantly, and the King yanked open the door. “Allow him in.”

 

Prompto let out a sigh of relief as Ignis strutted past the guard and into the room.

 

“Ignis!” Noctis sat up straighter, looking a lot more hopeful.

 

Ignis paused to bow to the King before moving to Noct’s side.

 

“I assume you heard of this development?” the King questioned.

 

“Yes, Majesty,” Ignis tossed over his shoulder. “Prompto called and filled me in. I believe I can help… somewhat, at least.”

 

“How so?” Gladio’s dad asked.

 

“We’ve only just begun learning this week, but I’ll see what I can do.” Ignis hesitated, raising his hands slowly.

 

Noct’s eyes lit up with recognition, and he watcheded Ignis’ hands closely as he began moving them in precise motions.

 

Whoa. Prompto didn’t know how to read sign language, but he could recognize it. He was pretty sure Ignis was just doing, like, one letter at a time, but at least it was something Noct was understanding.

 

Noctis noticeably calmed down, taking deeper, slower breaths before signing back his own message in slower motions.

 

Prompto almost smiled. Of course Ignis had learned more so far. Some things never changed.

 

There wasn’t much for everyone else to do other than sit there and watch. But Gladio seemed to be getting something out of the conversation.

 

“Iggy’s asking him questions,” Gladio whispered.

 

“How can you tell?” Prompto wondered.

 

Gladio snorted. “Known ’em long enough. Iggy’s got his question face on, and Noct keeps hesitating, so he must be thinking about his answers.”

 

Okay, yeah, Prompto could see that now.

 

Noct was about to sign something else, but he sneezed instead. Twice. Three times. He groaned, rubbing his eyes and then accepting the tissue the doctor offered him to blow his nose.

 

Ignis scowled, drawing Noct’s attention back to him by touching his shoulder before signing him something else.

 

Noct frowned before slowly nodding.

 

Ignis signed something else.

 

Noct nodded again.

 

Ignis sagged in clear relief. “Oh, thank Astrals.”

 

Noct frowned again, then his eyes lit up and he… smacked himself in the forehead.

 

“What is it?” the King pressed.

 

Ignis shook his head with a small chuckle, turning his head to look at the King. “A cold, I suspect. Congestion. That plus his condition already is what has left unable to hear to this extent.”

 

The doctor stepped forwards, brushing Noct’s bangs aside and running one of those fancy thermometers across Noct’s forehead. “He _does_ have a small fever.”

 

Ignis gave him a look. “You didn’t run that already?”

 

Gladio’s dad glanced at the King. “He was rather preoccupied.”

 

Prompto sagged against the wall. Okay. Okay, Noct was fine, but… Ignis was the only one that could help him, like usual.

 

Why couldn’t _he_ help? Why couldn’t _he_ be useful?

 

Prompto looked to Gladio. If Prompto didn’t know better, he’d say he wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines.

 


	5. Of Shots and Mentors

 

Thirteen. That was the thirteenth damn meeting since the Tummelt Affair, Nyx realized as he pushed through the escape– _exit_ doors to the meeting room.

 

Who knew being the Captain of the Glaive would be so boring? And stressful. And hell.

 

Astrals, he wished things could be as simple as they used to be. Being a soldier was straightforward. Being a Captain was… paperwork. Paperwork and politics and how the _hell_ did they expect him to sit in meetings when the war was still going on? Okay, yes, someone had to do it, but he was deeply bemoaning that it had to be _him_.

 

Sighing quietly, Nyx glanced at his watch. He was due to join the rest of the Glaive for training in a half hour. Might as well go ahead and get down there.

 

He passed by the smaller indoor training rooms on his way there. It was a common path for him to take, one usually full of metal or wooden swords hitting each other, or maybe the _thunk_ of daggers hitting their target. Gunshots, though? Those were a lot more rare. Nyx was pretty sure he knew who those belonged to.

 

Curios to see how the kid was holding up nearly two weeks later, Nyx altered his course and pushed through the training room door.

 

The kid remained oblivious to him, firing bullet after bullet until it was… well, Nyx couldn’t say Tenebraen cheese, because the bunch of holes weren’t really a bunch of holes. More like one big hole in the center of the target’s head.

 

Finally – once he was out – the kid lowered his gun, shoulders slumping with a sigh.

 

“Nice shots.”

 

The kid nearly dropped the gun, spinning around and yanking his ear protectors off. “Oh! Um, thanks, Mister… uh, Captain.”

 

Nyx grinned at him. “I’m gonna make Mister Captain my official title.”

 

The kid scratched the back of his head sheepishly, his cheeks a particularly bright shade of red. “Sorry, Captain.”

 

Nyx raised an eyebrow. “Kid, you aren’t a Crownsguard yet and I lead the Glaive. Nyx is fine. And you’re Prompto, right?”

 

The blond bobbed his head. “Uh, yes, si– _Nyx_.”

 

Nyx studied Prompto for a moment as he fidgeted under his gaze. “So. Why the long face and the slumped shoulders?”

 

“Um.” He blinked several times. “Just… stuff. And things.”

 

Nyx made a show of looking around the room. “Shouldn’t you have an instructor in here?”

 

Prompto shrugged. “I… got here early to practice.”

 

Nyx sighed. “Okay.” He gestured to a bench that was against the nearest wall. “Sit.”

 

“Whyyyyy?” Prompto asked, but did as he was told, taking a seat.

 

Nyx sat next to him. “Well, because I’ve been promoted to mentor position, and you’re my first victim, free of charge.”

 

“…Uh, thanks, I guess?”

 

Nyx gave him a look. “You better appreciate this, kid. I have an extremely riveting date with some paperwork I could be doing right now.”

 

Prompto snickered.

 

Nyx let his grin drop, getting more serious. “So. It’s been almost two weeks. How are you holding up?”

 

The kid shrugged. “Dunno. Fine, I guess. I just…”

 

“Just…?”

 

Prompto’s leg bobbed up and down restlessly. “I wanna be useful!”

 

Nyx frowned faintly. “That shot you made saved the Prince’s life – I’d say that was pretty useful.”

“Well, yeah, but, like… I froze after making the shot. What if I freeze when Noct’s in danger? What if he’s counting on me and I can’t do what he needs me to?”

 

Nyx laughed. “Kid, do you seriously think you’re the only one who’s frozen before?” He snorted. Right. If only the kid knew how many times Nyx had nearly lost his life in the middle of battle when he’d thought about– 

 

No. No, not going there right now. This was about the kid, not his own problems.

 

“Look, you may not have a lot of faith in yourself right now, but other people around here sure do.”

 

Prompto looked down. “They’re my friends. They’re just being nice.”

 

Nyx rolled his eyes. “The Marshal isn’t _nice._ And he sure as hell doesn’t promote people for being nice.”

 

Prompto looked up at him sharply. “Huh?”

 

Nyx glanced at the door. “All right… I’m gonna tell you something I probably shouldn’t.” He met Prompto’s gaze. “The Marshal’s recommended that you be officially sworn in early as a Crownsguard as soon as things settle down around here. The King agrees.”

 

“What? _Seriously?_ ” Prompto squeaked.

 

Nyx nodded. “If you want it, then yeah. The position is yours.”

 

The grin that split the kid’s face was brighter than a fira. “No way! Dude!”

 

Nyx chuckled. “I dunno about you, kid, but when the Marshal says somebody’s useful, I tend to believe him.” He clapped him on the back. “You’re gonna have to train hard, though. You realize that?”

 

Prompto nodded eagerly. “Yeah! I’ll do it! I’ll train really hard, and ask Ignis about learning sign language and stuff too, so I’ll be better prepared if Noct needs help!”

 

“Sounds like a plan, kid.”

 

The kid’s smile faded as quickly as it had come, though. “But… what if I can’t do it? What if I’m just not good enough?”

 

Nyx snorted a second time. “Again: the Marshal commended you. That’s not a common thing, kid. You’ll do fine.” He glanced at his watch. Time to go. “I hate to do this, but I gotta run.”

 

“Oh! Right, you have a job! You should do that!”

 

Nyx swallowed a snicker. “Yeah, I should, and you have one too.” He stood, mimicking a gun with his hand and firing it at the target Prompt had already decimated. “Keep it up.”

 

“Yessir!” Prompto chirped. “I’ll… do my best.”

 

Nyx tossed a smile over his shoulder as he headed for the door. “And that’ll be plenty. Good luck, kid.”

 

 


	6. Of Condolences and Puzzles

 

Ignis gripped the card in his hand tightly, bending it. He had the address.

 

“You’re sure about this?” Cor observed him with his arms crossed. “You know the King can send someone in your place.”

 

“No.” Ignis shook his head. “It must be me.”

 

He spent the car ride there trying to think of something eloquent to say, but nothing came to mind. Words. Words were usually his friends. But words couldn’t help these people.

 

“Take as long as you need,” the Marshal told Ignis as he climbed out of the car.

 

And so Ignis began a slow walk down the small dirt driveway. The child was playing in the yard. The same child from before, sitting there, making train noises as he drove his small toy caboose throughout the grass.

 

The noises stopped abruptly, and the boy looked up, seeing at Ignis.

 

“Hello,” Ignis managed.

 

The boy’s eyes were wide. “Mom!”

 

Ignis stayed right where he was as the boy ran inside and pulled his mother back out by one finger. Ignis hadn’t gotten a particularly good look at the mother before – he recognized the auburn hair, at least – but he could tell she was much worse for wear now. Of course, how could she not be?

 

She froze upon seeing him.

 

He bowed his head briefly, avoiding her gaze. “Mrs. Forte.”

 

Regaining her wits, the woman trailed her fingers through her son’s hair. “Honey, there’s some cookies in the kitchen – why don’t you go have some?”

 

The boy ran inside again.

 

Ignis tensed, expecting the mother to start yelling at him. And why shouldn’t she?

 

But she didn’t. Instead, she gave him a small smile. “Hello. Why don’t you come inside too? You’ll freeze in those clothes.”

 

To be honest, Ignis hadn’t even felt the cold, but now he realized that he’d forgotten his coat in the car. He accepted the woman’s invitation and followed her inside to the living room.

 

Awkwardness clung to his every bone as he took a seat and folded his hands in his lap. She sat on the couch across from the armchair he was occupying.

 

Her gaze was strong and calculating, even with the dark crescents beneath her eyes. “If you’re here because you’re blaming yourself, save your breath. You weren’t the one who pulled the trigger.”

 

Ignis laced his fingers together. “I’m not one to dwell on past errors, but the fact remains that I shouldn’t have involved you. That was… a grave error on my part.”

 

She was quiet for a moment. “How old are you?”

 

He hesitated. No matter how much he didn’t want to answer the question, Ignis wasn’t going to deny her the information. “Nineteen.”

 

Surprise flickered across her face. “You don’t need that kind of guilt this early in life. Let it go. That Imperial was the one to blame, no one else.”

 

Why was her being so forgiving making this even harder? “I… I’ve seen to it that you and your boy will be taken care of. Any educational needs in his future, any financial situations for either of you…”

 

She nodded, and Ignis could almost see a weight being lifted from her shoulders. “I appreciate that.”

 

Ignis had no doubt that she’d be able to pull through without extra help, but for the sake of her child, he knew she would accept at least some of that offer. He slowly reached into his vest pocket, trying not to fumble the small card he pulled out. “Should you need anything more immediate, this has my private number on it, as well as various other key numbers for members of the Guard if I’m unavailable.”

 

She leaned forwards and accepted the card, looking at it. “Thank you… _Mr. Scientia._ ”

 

Being addressed by his surname in such a manner was odd. Jarring, almost. He was used to it from those in the Citadel, but from a civilian? He felt like his uncle…

 

“The Imperial… The news was vague in terms of his fate…”

 

Ignis’ hands curled into fists. “He’s alive, unfortunately. But he’s certainly not going anywhere.”

 

“Good…”

 

An awkward silence fell. She checked her watch. He checked his. Probably best he get going–

 

“Mr. Scientia, would you care to join us for dinner?”

* * *

 

 

Noctis glared at the offending object that had taken up his kitchen table for the last week. Why the hell did puzzles with this many pieces exist? Just… why? Was this a new type of torture that was being tried out?

 

Oh. Yippy. He’d found a piece. That was a whole six pieces this hour.

 

Noctis tapped his phone, bringing up the time. Past normal dinner time, and Ignis still wasn’t back. That wasn’t like him at all.

 

He really, really hoped that family wasn’t giving Ignis problems. He had enough of those already–

 

Noctis whipped his head around as he heard the door to his apartment swing open. He stayed seated, though, not wanting to crowd Ignis the second he’d gotten in.

 

“Hey,” Noctis said as Ignis entered the living room.

 

“Good evening, Noct. Have you eaten?”

 

Of course that was his first question. “Nah. I didn’t know if you had a plan. Not that… you need to, or I expect you to. I just didn’t know.” Gah. He was _really_ trying not to assume stuff like he used to.

 

“Ah… Actually, Mrs. Forte insisted I stay for dinner, so I grabbed you something on the way home from Catoblepas Express.” Ignis held up a to-go bag.

 

Dinner? Oh, good. The meeting couldn’t have gone too bad if that lady had let him stick around for dinner. “Okay, cool. So… it went well?”

 

Ignis set the bag on the kitchen counter with a nod. “Yes. It appears that there’s no… ill will on her part.”

 

“Good. There shouldn’t be.” Noctis plowed on, making it so Ignis had no room to protest against that. “Did you help her make dinner?” He kept his tone teasing.

 

Ignis sighed. “Noct, she put effort into making me feel welcome – of course I offered to help her.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Noctis grabbed the bag off the counter with a grin. “So… school and work tomorrow. Back to normal.” He gestured to the puzzle. “Wanna finish this damn thing before you’re back to living in your own apartment? ’Cause I’m sure as hell not finishing it on my own.”

 

Ignis chuckled faintly. “Very well.”

 

Noctis sighed as they started working together. He was actually gonna miss this. A lot.

 


	7. Of Help and Secrets

 

Ignis frowned at the papers before him on Noct’s living room table.

 

“ _Hey, Iggy, you think I could… um… learn too?_ ”

 

Ignis hadn’t thought much of it when Prompto had asked to learn the basics of sign language – it was a responsible request, given Noct’s condition and Prompto’s status as the newest member of the Crownsguard – a duty he would officially be granted very soon.

 

At first, Prompto had been very attentive in the lessons, albeit not at all a natural.

 

“ _Like this?_ ”

 

“ _No, straighten your index finger just a tad._ ”

 

“ _Oh! You mean like this?_ ”

 

“ _…No._ ”

 

Then he’d started zoning out during lessons.

 

“ _Prompto? Prompto._ ”

 

“ _Huh? Do wa? What’d ya say?_ ”

 

And started showing up with a handful of fresh bruises and rather lacking excuses for their existence.

 

“ _I fell down…_ ”

 

“ _…How many times, exactly?_ ”

 

And then he started nodding off more frequently than _Noct_.

 

“ _Have you been resting well lately?_ ”

 

“ _Huh? Oh, yeah! Every night this week! And last week!_ ”

 

“ _…Then why is there drool on the table?_ ”

 

Ignis had been an inch away from summoning his daggers and asking Prompto’s parents some very pointed questions, but then he spotted the growing muscles under those bruises. One quick phone call to Cor was all it had taken to confirm that Prompto was, frankly, working his arse off with his training.

 

Unfortunately, by the time Ignis had suspected what was truly going on, he’d already made his mistake.

 

Ignis frowned deeper at the paper, the logical and emotional parts of his mind battling for dominance. Concern and guilt were first and foremost on the emotional side. Guilt was taking priority at the moment, because this was honestly an extreme invasion of privacy.

 

There was a knock on the door behind him, but Ignis didn’t turn around, knowing Prompto would push into the apartment anyway.  

 

“Yoooo! What’s up, guys?”

 

“Noct isn’t here.” Ignis’ fingers gripped the edge of the table. “Early dinner with his father.”

 

“Oh. ‘Kay.” Prompto stopped just behind him. “So, we just gonna work on the basics, then? I know I’m pretty behind you guys.”

 

Ignis sighed softly. Best get this over with. “Prompto… I am sorry. I am _so_ sorry. I’ve gone _beyond_ breaching your trust.”

 

“…Huh?”

 

Ignis gently pushed the open folder to his left so Prompto could see it, and then he closed it, showing the label on the front. “I… requested I be given a copy of all the information the Crownsguard had on you.”

 

“…W-why?” Prompto’s tone was laced with pure panic, and Ignis turned to find him clutching his wrist close to his chest. He looked terrified.

 

Ignis narrowed his eyes. Why was he so afraid? “You kept showing up here with new bruises every day, and you’ve been exhausted to the point of falling asleep mid-conversation. I… thought you might be having problems at home.”

 

Prompto double blinked. “Wait, you thought my parents were beating me? Dude, no! I was just training harder and didn’t want Noct to feel guilty! My parents haven’t even been–” He snapped his mouth shut.

 

Ah. Yes, there was one of the true problems. “Yes… I can see how it would be difficult for them to be the cause when they haven’t been home. Left two days after the Tummelt Affair, wasn’t it?”

 

Prompto shuffled uncomfortably. “…They had a business trip they couldn’t postpone.”

 

Ignis scoffed. “And the three whole months they were gone before that?”

 

Prompto stared at the floor. “Is this… really your concern, anyway? I’m doing fine.”

“Fine? Prompto, having to hold down two part-time jobs just to eat while you’re in high school because your parents aren’t taking care of you is not _fine._ ”

 

Although Ignis’ original reason for ordering the reports had been certainly justified, taking a look at Prompto’s finances had been going too far, and he knew it. Even so, he was glad he had. If Prompto never forgave him, it was worth it.

 

“They give me money!” Prompto protested.

 

“Yes, I noticed that… Enough money for groceries in general, perhaps, but what of everything else? School supplies? Clothes?”

 

Prompto blinked rapidly. “What do you want me to say, Ignis?”

 

“Nothing.” Ignis softened his tone. “I merely want to know why you didn’t come to us. How many extra hours have you had to work every time you and Noct have gone out to an arcade, or to get something to eat?”

 

“It was worth it. And… I didn’t want to be a burden to you guys.”

 

“Prompto…” Ignis stood, reaching a hand out to put it on Prompto’s shoulder. “You are anything but a burden. We care for you. I only wish we’d been able to help you in this regard sooner. Next time, come to us. Let us help you.”

 

“Iggy… I don’t need help – I’ll be fine! I don’t need you guys to give me money!”

 

Ignis chuckled. “Well, of course not. Had I found out about this sooner, perhaps, but not anymore.”

 

“…Huh?”

 

Ignis lifted his eyebrows a hair. “Prompto, you’ll be officially sworn in as a Crownsguard soon, something that pays far more than your usual jobs combined. Did you not realize?”

 

Prompto’s eyes bulged. “I. Um. Uh. I hadn’t thought about it?”

 

“Well, while you’re thinking about it, you should also think about putting in your two week notice to those other jobs. From now on, you can be paid for those bruises you’re earning.”

 

Prompto looked very much overwhelmed. And relieved. “Uh, yeah… I guess so…”

 

Ignis smiled. “You’ll make a fine Crownsguard.”

 

“Thanks, Iggy.” Prompto finally smiled back. “Just, uh, don’t, like, stalk my files again, okay? That’s, like, really creepy.”

 

Ignis bowed his head. “You have my word. I truly am sorry, and nothing like it will ever happen again. Just let us know if you need help, all right?”

 

“Kay.”

 

So, he hadn’t permanently damaged their friendship. That was a huge relief. That said, what had Prompto been so concerned about before? He’d almost seemed to _calm down_ when Ignis brought up why he’d asked for the files. Odd. But he wasn’t going to dwell on it, even if he was curious.

 

He’d promised.

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis jerked his head up from the papers he’d been reading. While him answering the door for visitors at Noct’s apartment wasn’t uncommon, a knock on _his_ door past nine at night was definitely more rare.

 

He’d summoned one of his daggers before he even reached the door.

 

Fortunately, it wasn’t anyone who would be a threat.

 

“Marshal?” Ignis’ heart rate kicked up a bit. Why would Cor be at his door this late?

Cor’s expression was flat. “You requested Prompto’s files earlier.”

 

Well, the Marshal was nothing if not direct. At least this wasn’t something serious, then. But… why was Cor here? “I did, yes. All of his bruising and exhaustion… I incorrectly assumed that he might be a subject of domestic abuse, especially considering how little he speaks of his parents. I was mistaken.”

 

Cor scoffed. “They’d have to actually pay attention to him to abuse him.”

 

Ignis blinked. Was that… bitterness? “My thoughts exactly. For a couple that went to the trouble of adoption, they certainly don’t seem keen on spending time with him.” Why did Cor know of Prompto’s circumstances so well? Having him observed due to his closeness to Noct was one thing, but that information shouldn’t have gone to Cor himself unless something more monumental happened.

 

The metaphorical gears within Ignis’ mind began to turn. Cor was the one who had suggested that Prompto be the second sniper during the Tummelt Affair. Cor had recommended him for immediate promotion after that – something that usually took much longer given the amount of extra background checking that was done.

 

Just how close of an eye was Cor keeping on Prompto and _why?_

 

“Marshal… is there something I should be aware of concerning Prompto’s origins?”

 

Cor looked him dead in the eyes. “No.”

 

Ignis arched an eyebrow. “I couldn’t help but notice that I wasn’t given anything about his earliest months when I requested his file.”

 

Cor gave him a look. “Don’t get any ideas in that head of yours. He’s not my illegitimate child or anything like that.”

 

Ignis tilted his head. “Perhaps not… but you do seem to carry a certain amount of interest in him.”

 

Cor’s gaze hardened, and he stepped closer. “Look and you’ll find his early days to be classified beyond your paygrade. Let it go, Scientia. That’s an order. Am I clear?”

 

Ignis instantly straightened to attention. “Yes, sir.”

 

“Good. Goodnight, then.” With that, Cor walked away from the door.

 

Ignis scowled as he closed his door. _Bloody hell._ Classified files? On _Prompto?_ He’d certainly stumbled upon something. Something, it appeared, he wouldn’t be getting an answer to any time soon.  

 

  
 


	8. Of Bribes and Games

As far as mornings went, Noct having kept his apartment clean himself was usually a good sign for the day. Today, however, it just made Ignis suspicious. Noct had gotten much better about keeping up with the cleaning, but when Ignis left last night, Noct and Prompto had already made a substantial mess by the TV. For Noct to have this completely spotless he would have had to have either cleaned it last night after they were done – unlikely – or gotten up early this morning to do it – even more unlikely.

 

…And there was breakfast on the table.

 

What was this madness?

 

“Iggy, hey!” Noct came hopping out of his room, struggling to put on a sock.

 

Ignis swiveled around to face him, eyebrow raised. “What do you want, Noct?”

 

Noct froze, then grinned sheepishly. “Yeaaah, I guess I was pretty obvious.”

 

“Very.”

 

Noct shrugged. “Yeah, well… Prompto and I are desperate. We need your help.”

 

“With?”

 

Noct produced a game case seemingly out of nowhere.

 

Ignis sighed. “Noct, I am not going to get you out of school so we can play video games.”

 

“No, no.” Noct held up a hand. “You misunderstand, good sir. I _am_ going to school, and I have already done your work here for you. So, you just need to get some practice with this so you can play with me and Prompto when we get off.”

 

Ignis did not let his flat look shift.

 

“C’mon, Iggy! This retaliatory strike is kicking our asses–”

 

“Language.”

 

“–and we need someone good to help us out!”

 

“And you’re asking _me?_ I’ve never played this game before. What makes you think I’ll be a more viable match than someone else online with greater experience?”

 

“Because everyone we keep playing with sucks and you’re freakishly good at picking up on games! You’ll probably be an expert by the time we get off of school! We’re not even that high of a level ourselves, I just got this, like, last week. You could catch up pretty easily.”

 

Ignis sighed again. “Noct, joining you for an evening or so is all well and good, but staying here during the work day–”

 

Noct rolled his eyes. “Ignis, your work days never end. _Ever._ But that’s why I already did everything, so you _do_ have time today!”

 

Ignis arched an eyebrow. “Noct, cleaning your apartment and fixing your breakfast are hardly my only duties for the day.”

 

Noct blinked. “Well… yeah, obviously, but, like… I thought you got that stuff for the meeting tomorrow done, like, last week…”

 

“I’ve finished the first draft of my report, yes, but I still need–”

Noct groaned. “Ignis, your first drafts are, like, better than my fifth ones! Look, I promise I will be up by seven tomorrow, in totally unwrinkled clothes, and I will try and take my own notes.”

 

…Tempting.

 

“And! _And_ I will get you a case of Ebony!”

 

… _Very_ tempting, but…

 

Ignis crossed his arms. “His Majesty forbid me from purchasing more Ebony until further notice.” Ever since the Marshal had bloody reported him for drinking too many – which, to be frank, was a far worse pain than the Marshal shooting him.

 

Noctis grinned as though he knew he was wearing down Ignis’ willpower to say no. “Uh, he forbid _you,_ yeah.”

 

“ _Noct…_ ” Going behind His Majesty’s back?

 

“ _Ignis._ It’s one case. One. You get the comfort of it for a bit, you don’t OD like my dad thinks you will, and Prompto and I get past this damn–”

 

“ _Language._ ”

 

“–level. Everybody wins!”

 

Ignis rubbed his temples, closing his eyes briefly. “Tenebrae Gold.”

 

Noct blanched at him. “Seriously? That flavor is so rare it gets on the news when places get it in stock!”

 

“I’m quite aware.”

 

Noct let out a puff of air. “You drive a hard bargain, Specs. Deal.”

 

* * *

 

 

After discovering the oddly touching fact that Noct had made him his own account on the PlayStation, Ignis booted up the game and took an awkward seat on the couch.

 

EbonyAddict was his username Well… at least it wasn’t something that would automatically tie him to the crown, like RoyalAdvisor or something.

 

It was… strange to be here without Noct. Playing a video game without Noct.

 

…Oh, Astrals, he was actually doing this. He was sitting in Noct’s living room without him and wasting time on a game that… honestly, this didn’t even have a plot like the others they’d played.

 

Ignis sighed. Well then… he was supposed to be good at this within a few hours. Best he get going.

 

_Get good._ That was something far easier said than done, as this game was absolutely nothing like any he’d tried before. The directional combinations were clearly meant for those with more experience with a game controller. Still… he believed he was getting the hang of things after the first hour.

 

…The first hour. He’d spent an _hour_ of his life shooting high-resolution images of supposedly sentient yet still flesh-mauling insects that mostly dwarfed his annoying character who wouldn’t stop making one of the three puns about tea every twenty seconds.

 

Perhaps it was time he tried one of the other two enemies.

 

Actually…

 

He pulled his phone from his pocket with one hand, sending a quick text to Noct as he tried to keep shooting the enemies onscreen.

 

**Ignis:** Are we to be facing the Bugs, Cyborgs, or Illuminati later?

 

His phone buzzed only a few moments later. Strange. Noct should have still been in class.

 

**Lance:** …Is this your idea of asking me on a date? If so, it’s working. Dinner and flowers are so overrated. Let’s kill something. Definitely the illuminate. I just got these boots, I don’t want bug or half human intestines on them.

 

…Oh, Six. What had he done?

 

He dragged his gaze from Aranea’s alias on his phone and back to the game, trying not to die.

 

The dangers of texting while distracted.

 

Ignis quickly finished his mission before sending the same text to _actually_ Noct.

 

…Now what to do about his mistake? Bloody hell, this was embarrassing. He was always so careful to choose the right contact in his phone. What if he’d done that with some important information?

 

Ignis stared at the message, amusement breaking through his mortification. She had no idea what he was talking about, and yet she’d returned a witty message in less than a minute. Always quick on her toes, Aranea was.

 

**Ignis:** …Apologies. That was meant for Noct.

 

Another text lit his phone before it had even fully dimmed.

 

**Lance:** No battle date, then? :’(

 

**Lance:** <Heartbroken Emoji>

 

**Lance:** You could have at least sent me some chocolate if you were going to cancel last minute.

 

**Lance:** <Stuck Out Tongue Emoji>

 

**Lance:** So, new game?

 

Ignis set his controller aside, both thumbs tearing across the surface of his phone.

 

**Ignis:** Noct and Prompto apparently needed an extra hand with a certain level, and thus I am attempting to learn the game in an effort to assist.

 

**Lance:** Retaliatory strike?

 

Ignis blinked. How…?

 

**Lance:** Get the Trident gun and level that up ASAP. Uses lasers, not bullets, so you won’t have to worry about running out of ammo. Just don’t overheat it.

 

**Ignis:** …I take it you’ve played before?

 

**Lance:** No. That was just a free game this month with that membership thing Biggs and Wedge have. They’ve been playing a lot between jobs, so I’ve picked up a few things.

 

Ignis chuckled. It was easy to imagine Biggs doing that, but Wedge? How odd.

 

**Ignis:** Well, whatever the source, my thanks for the tip.

 

**Lance:** <Thumbs Up Emoji>

 

* * *

 

 

Sadly, Aranea had left to go hunt a giant snake in the real world, and Ignis was left with his digital insects. On the bright side, however, Aranea had certainly known what she was talking about. Her advice was invaluable, and Ignis was having a much easier time with his new equipment.

 

He felt oddly pleased when the other player he’d matched with gave him a Commendation. This… _DetectiveN_ was almost twenty levels above him, so if she thought he was doing well, he likely was.

 

“ _Great job, Ebony!_ ”

 

Unlike the others he’d matched with, she had a mike that had made teaming up much easier since she knew best how to work the equipment Ignis currently had. Ignis spotted Noct’s headset by the TV and grabbed it before returning to his seat and plugging it in.

 

…Oh, he’d fallen to this… Dear Astrals, how far would he sink for six cans of Ebony?

 

…Noct really had chosen his username well.

 

“My pleasure.” Ignis adjusted the mike. “I’d like to give you a Commendation as well, but I’m afraid I’m rather new to this and haven’t quite figured that out yet.”

 

“ _Oh, it’s easy – just hit the Options button._ ”

 

Ah. There it was.

 

“ _Thanks! So, you up for a retaliatory strike?_ ”

 

“Certainly.” If he needed to practice on that, he might as well do so with a more experienced player. This way he might actually live through it.

 

…Or perhaps not. The difficulty on this particular level made it absolute chaos. They were swarmed and annihilated before they’d completed half the objective.

 

“ _Okaaay. New strategy._ ”

 

They tried again, and this time DetectiveN threw down some sort of beacon that would draw other players to their match.

 

Ignis spared a moment to glance at the clock. Goodness. Where did time go when one was playing these games?

 

Another player – apparently their distress beacon had worked – dropped into the combat zone. ForeignFighter was a rather high level of forty-two and clearly knew what he was doing.

 

DetectiveN ran for the top of the screen. “ _Hey, Ebony, when you get your next set of missiles recharged, throw them up here. I’m gonna throw a Thunder Barrage down in a sec._ ”

 

“Understood. I’ll have it ready.” Ignis kept firing as he moved to join her at the top of the map.

 

ForeignFighter paused for a moment, but then joined them, his mike crackling to life.

 

“ _…Scientia? Is that you?_ ”

 

Ignis blinked. He vaguely recognized the voice, but he couldn’t place it. “And who would this be?”

 

“ _Oh, you probably don’t know me. I’m Pelna. We work together. Sort of._ ”

 

Ah. He _did_ know that name. One of the Glaive that had been key in his rescue, but he was trying not to straight up say he was a Glaive while someone else could hear.

 

“ _Hold up._ ” DetectiveN lobbed a grenade at a bug that had gotten too close. “ _Scientia? Wasn’t that the name of that guy on the news a few weeks back who got kidnapped by the Empire?_ ”

Ignis sighed. So much for discreet.

 

“ _…Sorry, sir,_ ” Pelna muttered.

 

Bloody hell. If it got back to the rest of the Glaive that he sat around playing video games during his work hours…

 

“ _Holy crap! I’m on a team with people who are actually important in real life!_ ”

 

“ _Aw, now everyone’s important,_ ” Pelna said. “ _What do you do for a living?_ ”

 

“ _Oh, I’m in medical school._ ”

 

“ _See? That’s definitely important. Not everything can be solved by potions – we need you guys._ ”

 

“ _Yeah, of course. I just meant… you know, you guys protect the royal line and stuff. Are you a Crownsguard too?_ ”

 

“ _Actually, I’m a Glaive, but close enough._ ”

 

“ _Awesome! You’re not from Insomnia, then?_ ”

 

“ _Nah. But it’s my home now, so I’m gonna keep protecting it as best I can_.”

 

“ _That’s pretty noble._ ”

 

“ _Well, I do try._ ”

 

Ignis awkwardly stayed silent and kept shooting. Had they… forgotten he was here?

 

Apparently they had, because they continued flirting well past the end of the mission and into the next one. And to top off that awkwardness, the flirting got stronger on both ends. They were so enthralled by each other that they didn’t even seem to notice when they got a fourth party member.

 

“Pelna, move! You’re about to–”

 

The fourth member’s deploying pod landed smack on top of Pelna’s character, causing digital blood to spray over the ground.

 

“ _…Oops_ ,” Pelna said, and then he and DetectiveN both burst out laughing.

 

Ignis rolled his eyes and keyed in the combination to resurrect him.

 

“ _Good to know our city is in safe hands,_ ” DetectiveN teased.

 

“ _Hey now…_ ” Pelna protested.

 

“ _All respect to the King’s gallant soldier! He gave his life so that another brave soul might live!_ ”

 

Ignis snorted faintly at that.

 

“ _…What the hell did I just walk into?_ ” said a bemused new voice.

 

Ignis spared the new player’s username a glance. BlackIce99.

 

“A romance novel, evidently,” Ignis muttered.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time their group split – DetectiveN for class and BlackIce99 to take his sister out to lunch for her birthday – Ignis was quite pleased with the progress he’d made. He’d even drafted in the Glaive to assist him with Noct and Prompto’s trouble level.

 

Ignis propped his phone up in front of him as he prepared his lunch and dinner for later. His report truly didn’t need too much focus after all. In all honestly, there was a different report that needed his attention, but the King had told him to take his time and do it only when he and Noct were truly ready.

 

Three times, the PlayStation chimed, letting him know that he had friend requests.

 

Well, then… It appeared he’d found his own little squad, should he ever need one. Just as long as Pelna and DetectiveN withheld their nauseating amount of flirting…

 

The rest of his afternoon was easily taken up with his real duties – replying to emails, checking his report for the eighth time, and… writing up the _other_ report that he’d been putting off almost too many weeks to count.

 

Six, he had no desire to put the events of the Tummelt Affair into words. He’d been trying his damnedest to _not_ think about those days for weeks. But putting it off… the King would need that report eventually, and Ignis hated having it loom over his head – it was an added amount of stress he certainly didn’t need.

 

Perhaps… perhaps he should broach the topic with Noct after they were done this evening. For now he could simply do the leading up to Loqi’s meeting with him. Small steps…

 

…What _had_ happened before that meeting? It seemed so long ago now… So insignificant.

 

He and Noct had been working on Noct’s lack of dancing ability, of that he was fairly sure. A night like any other.

 

Ignis smiled faintly as he remembered how the toes of his right foot had been aching when he left.

 

Ignis’ phone gave a buzz, and he glanced over to find another text from Noct.

**Noctis:** How goes?

 

**Ignis:** Level 11.

 

**Noctis:** Wow. Nice! That’s pretty good.

 

**Ignis:** I consider our victory all but assured.

 

Mainly because Pelna would be joining them with his rather advanced experience and equipment. The Glaive had spent entirely too much time on that game from what Ignis could tell.

 

**Noctis:** Sounds great, Specs. See you soon.

 

**Ignis:** Would you prefer I serve the liberTEA hot or iced when you get home?

 

**Noctis:** …If you hear any strange noises outside, that’s just me groaning. Or maybe Prompto suffocating from laughing so hard. One of the two.

 

**Ignis:** I’ll alert an ambulance.

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis had barely parked the car back in the garage after picking Noct and Prompto up when the two shoved their way out.

 

Ignis leisurely exited his seat and shut his door. “Might I remind you that no matter how quickly you get up there, you _will_ still have to wait on me?”

 

“Well, then, hurry it up!” Noct doubled back and snagged Ignis’ sleeve, dragging him towards the elevator.

 

Ignis huffed half-heartedly and let himself be pulled until they were all through the door of Noct’s apartment… where Gladio was sitting at the table and reading.

 

Well, then, this was a surprise. Not an unwelcome one, but a surprise nonetheless.

 

“Good evening, Gladio.” Ignis adjusted his spectacles as soon as Noct released his sleeve to go start up the PlayStation. “What brings you here?” Had Noct and Prompto been desperate enough to recruit him as well? Oh dear… he might have to disappoint Pelna, then.

 

Gladio grinned. “Just here to make some money.”

 

“Not gonna happen!” Prompto tossed over his shoulder, taking a seat on the couch.

 

Ignis arched an eyebrow. “Dare I ask?”

 

“They have a bet going.” Noct lobbed a controller to Prompto.

 

“Oh? Do tell.” Ignis might have been concerned were it Gladio and Noct, but Prompto would never bet too seriously on anything.

 

Gladio closed his book, dragging one of the kitchen chairs over and placing it behind the couch. “I bet that you’ve already figured out some tricks and surpassed them and’ll have to carry their asses through the level.”

 

“And I bet that there’s no way you could catch up to our experience that easily!” Prompto chirped, logging his account in. “Noct and I will be the masters, but you will still be super helpful!”

 

“If you’re the masters, why’d you have to recruit help?” Gladio shot back.

 

“Because numbers! Duh!”

 

Noct shook his head and handed another controller to Ignis before they both squeezed in next to Prompto. Ignis spared a moment to send a text to Pelna before turning his attention to the game.

 

My, this couch had never seemed so small.

 

Once they’d all appeared on the bridge, they headed into the deploy pods and selected their equipment before being sent to the planet.

 

As soon as they climbed out of their pods, Ignis began calling down what defenses he could.

 

“Agh!” Prompto yelped, making his character dive towards the top of the screen. “Why is there _fire_ raining from the _sky,_ Ignis?”

 

“Because it’s an effective deterrent,” Ignis said simply, joining Noct at the top of the map.

 

Gladio snorted. Noct snickered.

 

Soon, the hordes were descending, and the three of them opened fire.

 

“Whoa!” Noct blinked. “Is that a _laser shotgun?_ ”

 

“ _I want one!_ Where did you get that?”

 

Gladio laughed loudly. “Oh, yeah… My next date is gonna be well paid for.”

 

“Hey!” Prompto snapped. “He’s not carrying us! We’re all fine at the moment! See? Totally fine.”

 

“Yeah, what happens when you run out of ammo and he doesn’t?”

 

“Wait, you don’t have to worry about ammo?” Noct snuck a glance at his weapon’s status.

 

“No, but it can overheat.” Ignis resisted a smirk. Aranea had been quite useful.

 

The next few minutes had a lot less conversation and a lot more screaming from Prompto. The cyborgs seemed to multiply for every one that they killed, and soon the tanks started coming.

 

“Prompto, grab one of the missiles I dropped near you!” Noct hissed, diving to avoid getting shot by a tank. The tank followed him, allowing Prompto to grab the rocket from the ground and fire.

 

“Woohoo!”

 

“Another one incoming,” Ignis warned. His firewall and static fields held many enemies at bay, but not those.

 

With Noct still being the closest, that tank aimed for him as well, and Ignis cut between them, taking the missile.

 

“Ignis,” Noct said flatly as he grabbed the second rocket and shot the tank back. “You do know you don’t have to do that in videos games, right?”

 

“I had a shield, you didn’t. I’m still alive– never mind.” He’d lived through the tank, but it had taken his shield, which left him trapped in the static field to be mauled by the cyborg dogs there. Oh, well. Dying and being called in by teammates was a key part of this game.

 

Prompto shrieked as one of the larger cyborgs landed on his head and killed him. “Uh-oh… Noct…”

 

Noct wasn’t faring all that well himself. As the last man standing, everything was heading towards him and he had nowhere to run. “Working on it…”

 

“Grab my shield,” Ignis suggested now that the static field had worn off and his equipment was scattered around his body.

 

Noct did so just in time to be hit by a missile, which the shield took. “Crap, crap, crap…”

 

“Dude…”

 

“I’m working on it, Prompto, but if I stop shooting, I’m dead– crap!”

 

Noct was hit by a bullet and now his character was crawling backwards on the ground as he repeatedly smashed the recover prompt.

 

“Come on, dude, we only have seventy kills to go!”

 

“Shut up, I’m trying!”

 

“ _Helldiver deploying to combat zone,_ ” said the TV.

 

“Oh, yes!” Noctis hissed. “We got a fourth person!”

 

Ignis smirked as the last player climbed out of his pod and immediately called the two of them back in before running over to Noct and helping him up.

 

“ _Mind if I warp in, Your Highness?_ ”

 

Noct blinked, startled.

 

Prompto gasped, grabbing the mike by the TV and plugging it in. “Pelna! Buddy! You’re a lifesaver!”

 

“ _Well, Scientia told me you guys might need a hand._ ”

 

Ignis threw down another firewall. “How go the wedding plans?”

 

Pelna laughed. “We have a date next Friday.”

 

“You got a date out of this game?” Gladio demanded.

 

“Oh, hey, Amicitia! Yeah, I actually did. Met her when I teamed up with Scientia earlier.”

 

“Duuuude, your game has gotta be on point if you managed that without her ever seeing your face!” Prompto lobbed a grenade at a nearby cyborg.

 

“…You know, _she_ could be a desperate creep,” Gladio said.

 

“She seemed nice enough.” Ignis threw another static field. “Noct and Prompto would like her, I’m sure.”

 

“ _Oh, yeah?_ ”

 

“What makes you say that?” Noct wondered.

 

“I believe her username was a _Death Note_ reference.”

 

“Duuuude!” Prompto said gleefully. “Marry her!”

 

“ _…I have no idea what you’re talking about._ ”

 

“Right?” Gladio grumbled. “I swear, that stuff is like another language.”

 

Noct – who had finally died and was waiting for someone to call him in – held up his right hand and signed out _whatever_ one letter at a time to Gladio without even looking back at him.

 

Ignis couldn’t see Gladio’s expression, but he imagined there was a fairly strong glare leveled at the back of Noct’s head at the moment.

 

“Gentlemen,” Ignis said clearly, trying to defuse the fight before it truly started. He called Noct’s character back in. “Can this wait until we’ve finished with this blasted level?”

 

“Please!” Prompto begged. “My life will not be complete without this!”

 

“…Your life is sad, Prompto,” Gladio commented.

 

“Rude– yes! We did it!”

 

“Still gotta get out of here, I wouldn’t celebrate just yet. Cover me.” Noct ran for the device that would call in the shuttle to get them out while the rest of them warded off the enemies trying to get to them.

 

The rest of the level actually progressed rather smoothly, and all four of them boarded the shuttle without incident.

 

“Ba-da-da-da-du-do-da-ba-ba-baaa!” Prompto belted out.

 

Gladio tapped him on the shoulder, looking smug as he held out his hand.

 

“What? No! _Pelna_ is the one that saved our butts at that one point!” Prompto protested.

 

“Uh-huh. And who recruited him for the match?”

 

Pelna snickered.

 

Prompto sighed and fished some money out of his pocket and slapped it into Gladio’s hand.

 

Ignis frowned. It was a good thing Prompto was making more money now, at least.

 

“ _Well, Your Highness, Prompto, Scientia, I’m afraid I’ve got a shift in a bit, so I’m gonna have to run._ ”

 

“Ahhh, boooo.” Prompto scowled.

 

“Our thanks for your help,” Ignis said over Prompto’s bemoaning.

 

“ _Anytime!_ ”

 

Pelna’s character fell over and died dramatically as he logged off.

 

“That was awesome!” Prompto cheered.

 

Gladio tapped his fingers on the couch. “So, are you geeks gonna keep playing this, or…?”

 

Ignis glanced at the time. “I rather think some dinner is in order, actually.”

 

Noct nodded. “I’m down for dinner.”

 

“Same,” Prompto said, bounding off the couch and heading for the kitchen. “Maybe we could watch a movie after?”

 

Noctis looked at Ignis, asking silently if he’d continue with this little… sideshow from real life.

 

Ignis smiled faintly.

 

_As you wish,_ he signed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, has anyone else seen Infinity War yet? If so, does anyone want to yell with me ABOUT HOW ABSOLUTELY CRAPPY THE WRITING WAS IN THE FIRST FIVE MINUTES? Yeah, you know what I’m talking about! That awfulness ruined the entire movie for me! *rages endlessly* I DID NOT FOLLOW THESE CHARACTERS FOR SEVEN YEARS FOR THAT GARBAGE, YOU MORONS. YOU CAN TAKE YOUR STUPID SHOCK VALUE AND SHOVE IT.


	9. Of Birthdays and Futures

 

“He’s gonna know,” Noct warned.

 

Ignis paused just short of entering the dining room, arms full with the two large paper sacks he’d brought from the grocery store. He’d gently nudged the door shut with his foot, so it was no wonder why they hadn’t heard him come in. _They_ being Noct and presumably Gladio and Prompto. Ignis hadn’t known they would be here – Noct was alone when he’d left to grab a few things for their dinner.

 

How curious. Not that Ignis minded the others being there, but it was Wednesday. Wednesday had become Ignis and Noct’s weekly ‘hang out and do stupid stuff like normal people’ – Noct’s words, not Ignis’ – night. So far it had only been the two of them on these evenings.

 

Why would Noct change that now?

 

“No, he’s not,” Gladio dismissed. “What, you think he counted them before he left?”

 

“…Dude. It’s Ignis. Somehow, he will know,” Prompto piped up.

 

“Oh, please. If he doesn’t want the cookies he makes eaten, then he shouldn’t make ’em so damn good and then leave them on the counter.”

 

A small smirk pulled at Ignis’ mouth, and he fell back further into the hallway, opening the door again with his elbow before kicking it shut again, louder.

 

…Was he truly doing this? Yes, it appeared he was. Goodness. Noct _had_ been rubbing off on him.

“Iggy! Good, you’re back,” Noct called.

 

“Quite so. Sorry for the delay.” Ignis finally moved into the dining room. “It appears some percentage of the population is still keen on using checks as a means of payment. Good evening, Gladio, Prompto.”

 

Prompto groaned loudly. “Oh my gosh, the check people. I _hated_ them when I was a cashier!”

 

Ignis set the groceries on the counter, then froze for a moment before swiveling around to directly face the cookies he’d left to cool. He sent Gladio a pointed glare. “Gladio, if you’re going to partake of the dinner I intend to fix, then I’ll not have you ruining your appetite with sweets ahead of time.”

 

Prompto’s eyes bulged.

 

Gladio’s jaw slackened. “How the _hell?_ ”

 

Noct burst out laughing. “Told you. And I love how you managed to get that and not notice the rest of the room.”

 

Ignis blinked, turning his attention to the decorations and boxes behind the three. “What’s all this?”

 

Noctis rolled his eyes. “I swear… It’s your birthday, dumbass.” He grabbed one of the softer gifts from beside him and lobbed it at Ignis, hitting him in the chest and making him catch it.

 

Oh. Why so it was.

 

“You didn’t even realize, did you?” Noct shook his head. “I don’t get it. How can you memorize, like, twelve people’s weekly schedules and forget your own birthday?”

 

Ignis blinked down at the gift, and then back up at the rest of the room. “I… you set up a birthday party for me?”

 

“Ehhh…” Prompto shrugged. “Birthday mini get-together? We knew you wouldn’t want a lot of people around, soooo Noct thought the four of us could just, like, chill and do whatever.”

 

“Yeah, we would have gotten you a cake, but we knew it would never be as good as yours, so we brought you the ingredients for one of your favorites instead.” Gladio gestured to the far part of the counter where several things were stacked neatly.

 

“But we’ll _help_ make it at least!” Prompto chirped.

 

Ignis smiled softly. How thoughtful. To others, making him do the work might seem rude given that it was _his_ birthday, but… well, they’d tried baking for him in the past, and this was a much-preferred alternative.

 

Things had improved so much over the last couple of months – far more than Ignis had expected. He and Noct were both doing well, making much better progress together than they ever could have alone. Their… _episodes_ were less common now, Noct’s hearing in his left ear had returned to normal, Ignis was able to bathe again without problems for the most part, and their studies regarding sign language were going rather quickly.

 

As for Prompto and Gladio… well, despite not knowing most of the problems Ignis and Noct had, they were still remarkably supportive, providing much-needed breaths of stable familiarity. Ignis could tell at first that they were trying their best to _act_ normal before, but lately they’d fallen back to actually _being_ normal once again.

 

Gladio was still more protective and cautious, but not smotheringly so. Ignis could just see the way he tensed more around strangers and out in public. Gladio was trained to be a guard. A shadow to his ward. He was doing his job, and doing it well.

 

Prompto, however… now that was where the truly visible changes were. At least Ignis had been able to straighten that mess up fairly quickly.

 

And so they were living on. Living on, one simple day at a time.

 

* * *

 

 

Once the cake was in the oven, Ignis was shooed onto the couch by the others to open gifts they’d gotten him. Ignis chuckled, settling onto the cushions. The TV was on, but only on the weather channel, and it was muted, leaving the other three as the only sources of buzzing activity around him.

 

Ignis watched their bantering fondly, pondering which gift to open first. He settled on the gift Noct had originally thrown at him and began meticulously picking at the tape.

 

Noct groaned loudly. “Specs, please, have mercy.”

 

Ignis chuckled again and began ripping the paper off, not failing to notice how Noct’s eyes lit up with mischief. Oh dear. Well, the package was too soft to contain any devious types of exploding confetti mechanism, so this had to be something else.

 

And indeed it was. A t-shirt. Ignis raised an eyebrow. Noct knew very well that he didn’t wear t-shirts. What was this?

 

Ignis discarded the wrapping paper and flipped the shirt around, holding it up so he could read the cream letters that were emblazoned on the dark purple fabric.

 

“Oh, for Astrals’ sake…” Ignis let go of the shirt, dropping his head into one hand as his shoulders shook with laughter. “You _actually_ bought this?”

  

Noctis was laughing fairly loudly too. “Told you I would!”

 

Prompto grabbed the shirt. “What? What does it say–  _oh em gee, Noct,_ you did not…”

 

“You bet I did!”

 

Yes… yes, he most certainly had. Ignis was now the only owner of a shirt that read ‘I got shot by the Immortal and all I got was this crappy shirt.’

 

“Noct, I…” Ignis paused. “…I am amused, but not entirely certain what it is I am to do with this.”

 

Noct shrugged. “It was a joke, I have you a real present. Wear it on your off days?”

 

Gladio snorted. “He doesn’t have off days.”

 

“Point. Okay, wear it when you’re home for the day. It looks cozier than a suit. Heck, wear it as pajamas. I don’t care.”

 

Ignis shook his head. “Thank you, Noct.”

 

Noct smiled back, then signed something, smirking again.

 

_Wait until you see what I have planned for Prompto’s birthday._

 

Oh dear.

 

Gladio groaned. “Really? Do you have to do that while we’re right here?”

 

A sly grin encompassed half of Noct’s face, and then he started signing at a rapid-fire pace.

 

Gladio sighed. “Seriously?”

 

Ignis withheld yet another chuckle. Noct wasn’t even saying anything – he was repeating the weather report that was currently on the TV.

 

Gladio looked to Prompto. “You gettin’ any of this?”

 

Prompto blinked at Noct blankly. “Uhhh, nope. Not a word. He’s going waaaaay too fast. Wait! I got that one! _Gloomy!_ ”

 

Gladio scowled. “I am not being gloomy, I was just asking!”

 

Ignis lost another battle with his laughter then, as did Noct.

 

Gladio only scowled more darkly. “Will you knock it off?”

 

Noct looked him straight in the eyes, then signed one word.

 

_Never._

 

Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get himself back under control. Astrals, he loved days like this. Days when they all could simply be who they were – most of their flaws and all – and have a good time.

 

Perhaps one day they wouldn’t have to try and ignore the war that sat on their doorstep. Perhaps one day there would be true peace, and Noct would reign as a wise and beloved King for decades.

 

Until that day, these times would be their sanctuary, and Ignis would cherish every moment of them.

 

Ignis’ phone chirped in his pocket – the different tone he used for only one person.

 

Yes… perhaps one day, the Wall would not keep them from the rest of the world.


End file.
